Chapter Nine
By the time Silas had shepherded his companions away from the open floor and into his house, Lucas realised the noise and smell of the Forge had faded to a faint and distant roar.
Impressed by the size, the unique design, and the luxurious facilities, he took a few moments to poke his nose in a couple of rooms.
“What do you think?” Hiram came up behind him. “Not bad for a Forge Master, eh?”
“I think it’s amazing,” replied Lucas. “Honestly. If you showed me pictures of this, I would never imagine it could be built underground.” He glanced at Hiram. “Do you have one like it?”
“Well now, I wouldn’t say like this one, but yes, I do have one not far from here. When I got married, I realised I didn’t have enough room for a wife and daughter. So...” He shrugged. “Now we do.”
“So many unexpected surprises,” said Lucas quietly. Then he turned to the other man. “Is he a good Forge Master, Hiram?”
The answer came without hesitation. “The best, sir. The best the Forge has seen in decades. He’s smart, he’s hard working, he’s always got time for anyone with questions and offers help when its needed without being asked.”
“That’s a wonderful recommendation.” He held out his hand. “Call me Lucas?”
The big man looked at him, and Lucas knew he was being measured. Then, as if concluding his assessment, Hiram nodded. “I’d be honoured to do so. Lucas.”
Suddenly there was an increase in the noise level that brought them hastily back out into the hall to see what was happening.
Standing in front of Silas was a woman, tall, slender, with a head full of blonde curls, and her hands firmly on her hips. “And you didn’t think to let me know your brother was here?” She glared at her husband. “What were you thinking, Silas?”
To Lucas’s amusement, Silas gulped and hung his head.
“There really hasn’t been time, Thea. We would have sent you a message, but apparently word travels faster than feet in this place.
” He shrugged, then caught sight of Lucas and Hiram lingering in the passageway.
“Lucas, get over here. If I don’t introduce you to my wife, she’ll have my head for dinner. ”
He was aware of very blue eyes widening a little and staring at him as he walked into the hall towards his brother. “Hello. You must be Thea.” He smiled. “I was told you were a beauty, but I think that was an understatement...”
He walked toward her, stopping in front of her and taking her hand. “How my brother could manage to talk someone as beautiful as you into marriage? Well, it confounds me.” He raised her hand and kissed it, all suave elegance.
Thea’s eyebrow rose as her lips quivered into a smile. “Well, coggleblast it. You’re a cool one, aren’t you?”
“I try,” he quipped. “One hothead in the family is quite enough.”
“You look alike,” she said, glancing from one to the other. “Not so much in colouring, but in demeanour. No mistaking an Ashcombe, is there...”
“They breed true,” said Silas quietly.
Thea smiled up at him, a look that made Lucas silently gasp. This was no ordinary woman, and he’d not have expected one. But Thea was more than lovely to look at. There was a world of knowledge in those blue eyes, and he’d bet his last coin that there was a brain there to match.
“I hope you’re right.”
Her expression...well it just glowed.
And a thought crossed Lucas’s mind as the couple exchanged a look. He watched his brother, as Silas’s gaze roamed over his wife’s face. Hmmm.
“So. You’re here, Lucas. At last.” Thea waved her hand. “Come into the parlour and tell us why you’ve come. I’ll wager it’s a serious matter to bring you out of your exile and home to Arcvale...and perhaps even more important than that, since it’s brought you here to your brother.”
“You wouldn’t be far off,” answered Lucas. “And yes, I’ll tell you what’s going on, for a variety of reasons. But mostly because the Forge itself may well be involved.”
That statement sobered them all. Within moments they settled around a small table, and Lucas found himself with three pairs of eyes fixed on his face.
He took a breath. “Let me start by going back in time a bit and saying that you’re going to hear some banking terms, some financial terms and one or two other things that probably don’t mean a lot to you at this particular moment.
So I ask you to bear with me and I’ll try to keep it as understandable as I can. ”
Silas nodded. “Talk.”
“It’s about money. All about money. As my brother probably remembers, I have an affinity for numbers. And yes, my PBIC financial system is currently in effect both here in Arcvale and also in Sectorvale.”
“What does PBIC stand for?” Thea asked.
“Um, I’ll tell you later. It’s not really relevant right now.
” He straightened a little in his chair.
“One of the most important features of the system is its ability to cross-check, double-check and triple check its own efficiency. Everything from the smallest deposit—a child’s pocket money, for example—to the.
..” he sought for an example, “to the monthly income of the Forge, all these transactions are fully monitored. There are receipts, reports, copies in more than a few files, and so on.”
“All right. It sounds very impressive, and you are to be congratulated, but where are we going with all this?” Silas leaned forward, his arms on the table, his hands clasped.
“We’re going to unexpected places,” answered Lucas.
“We’re going to the exact moment a transaction rounded down, instead of up.
The moment when an anticipated interest accrual was posted but was fractionally lower than projected.
When a transaction slowed due to a holiday delay—but there was no holiday. ”
He saw the realisation of the situation dawning on the three faces staring at him.
“These aren’t huge problems, from the sound of it, Lucas,” Thea observed. “Wouldn’t they be expected in the normal course of things?”
“In the normal course of things, yes. But my system isn’t the normal course of things.
” He shook his head. “I know that sounds terribly dramatic and boastful, but it’s true.
None of these things—and others too, stuff I won’t even bother to go into at this point—none of these things should be happening. ”
“I’m not sure I see how this affects the Forge,” said Silas.
Lucas leaned forward. “Because the Forge doesn’t live on projections. It lives on delivery.” He tapped the table once. “If funds arrive a fraction short, you compensate. If they arrive later than scheduled, you delay. If they arrive marked pending, you hesitate.”
Silas frowned. “And hesitation costs us...”
“Time,” Lucas said. “Materials. Trust. Momentum.” He met his brother’s eyes across the table. “The Forge runs hot and fast. Even a slight financial drag will slow it first, before anything else shows the same signs. But the ripple effect will have begun...”
Silence fell for a minute or so, each person turning the situation over in their mind.
“So if funds are pending,” began Thea, “the Forge can’t commit until they arrive.”
“Contracts would have to be delayed or even re-negotiated...” Hiram frowned.
“Yes, all this...and more. Foremen would have to delay decisions, our suppliers would demand reassurance and possibly not deliver on time...Forge production would drop. Slowly but eventually it would shake our foundations and throw the Forge, and Arcvale itself, into chaos.”
Silas raised his chin. “The Forge would take the blame, wouldn’t it?”
Lucas didn’t hesitate. “The way it looks right now? Yes."
*~~*~~*
Verity’s morning didn’t start at her usual time.
She’d tossed and turned last night, her troubled mind seeking a solution and failing to find one. So she’d slept badly and awoken an hour earlier, finding the world still dark outside her window.
Pulling the covers up and around her cool shoulders, she snuggled into her pillow and let her mind roam, knowing that trying to sleep would be a futile effort.
The night before, her mind had offered up every single thing she could think of that would cause a deposit to be delayed, and not one of them had worked for her.
If only she could stop thinking about it for a while.
Clear her mind of the debris remaining from a night of ineffective rambling, and think of something else entirely.
Closing her eyes, she made a conscious effort to clear her thoughts, letting them drift like the clouds over the Holdings.
High, fluffy, soft against the mountain backdrop, which was white with snow in the winter, but all different colours as the seasons changed.
She wanted to see it for herself one day, but up to now, her life had kept her in Arcvale. As had her marriage. Pushing those memories aside, she let herself drift...
And there he was. Lucas. Front and centre of her mind, looking at her with those sensual eyes of his.
He’d been the first man she’d met who had caused any kind of reaction in her.
The ones her parents had paraded in front of her were either old, stupid, or both.
Of course she understood that she was expected to marry well, but surely there were other men out there who could do more than stare at her budding assets—and lick their lips?
They made her shudder with distaste and resolve never to wed.
And then she met Sir Lucas Ashcombe.
What a night that had been.
The usual evening affair, empty conversation, uninteresting food, and poor-quality wine. The guests had been an odd mix of the titled gentry, the newly wealthy, and those who bridged the gap between them.
But the tall man with the unusual amber-flecked dark eyes who looked at her...he was none of those, she knew. His smile was pleasant, his manner equally so, and when he asked for the next dance with a slight curve of his lips...she tumbled head over heels in love.
They’d danced, and talked a little, mundane chit-chat, was she enjoying the evening, had he read the latest Samuel Oakley novel.
.. Their time together had been so short, she had barely a moment to ask about his new financial discoveries, a matter close to her heart even then.
And when she did? He’d replied. Calmly answered her questions.
It was the first time she’d had such a conversation, and she was thrilled at the thought of continuing it.
Perhaps the next time they met.
She had eagerly awaited that moment, recalling his smile, the warmth of his hand. But then the rumours began filtering through the all-powerful gossip network.
Sir Lucas Ashcombe had left Arcvale for good.
His mother had passed away, and some said his heart was broken. Others said his brother, Silas, had kicked him out. His father was distraught and already making plans to move away to Thornemar, the lovely island in Brassmere Deep, where only the wealthy could afford to live.
The Ashcombe family had splintered upon the death of the woman who must have held it all together.
And Lucas had never been seen in Arcvale since that time...until now.
Not quite ten years, ten long years, had gone by since Verity had sighed over a man. She’d been barely seventeen then.
His departure seemed to be a pivotal moment in her life, because not long after that, George Yardley offered for her hand and was instantly accepted. By her parents.
For herself? She had no say in the matter. Within months she was married, a wife, now Lady Verity Yardley, complete with all the baggage that accompanied a title and a husband. She had quickly learned to manage a household, since her mind was organised and her husband gave her free reign.
He was, all things considered, not an unkind man.
His age probably accounted for it, since he had lost his first wife five years before, and apparently hadn’t thought much about finding another, until the question of his properties and holdings came into question by a greedy relative.
The suggestion of marriage found favour, and there was Verity, intelligent, attractive, and available.
A decent settlement was agreed upon, and the wedding was attended by many respectable families.
Most agreed she’d made a good match and would probably give George a son to inherit his father’s name and estate.
She had done her wifely duty, finding the business.
..well, not too unpleasant, and over quickly.
Yes, she’d been lucky, she knew now. She’d found a measure of gentleness and kindness, virtues that she now knew were a great deal more valuable than a fortune. She’d not found love, or passion, but at this point in her life, regarded those as emotions better left alone.
And yet...
Lucas’s face swam before her eyes once more.
Dear God, if he touched her like that...staring at her as he did so...
Her body quickened and she sucked in a harsh breath. This was absurd—ridiculous, she told herself. Lucas had his reasons for returning, she was sure. And if she tried to fool herself into thinking she’d been one of them, then she was asking for trouble.
“So,” she said out loud, “Don’t be an idiot, Verity Turner. And get out of bed. You have business to attend to, things a great deal more important than mooning over a man.”
She slid out from beneath the covers and reviewed her day ahead.
She had to discover why a transaction was ‘pending’, and she needed to see Alastair Pembroke, because he was the only person she knew of who could tell her why.
Although it was also likely that a certain Ashcombe could probably answer that question as well...